The Return
by Casteline
Summary: Neal returns. Sequel to A Promise Of More. Neal/Peter slash.


Welcome to the much anticipated sequel to A Promise Of More! If you haven't ready that one, go back and read it now.

Note: I don't know anything about the FBI academy. What I do know is that you have to have a bachelors or masters degree, plus 3 or 2 years of full time work in your field, before you can apply. I hope to one day find out what the Academy is like (my goal in life), but as I am only a college freshman, I've still got years to go.

I also know that, yes, Neal wouldn't have been able to get in because of A) criminal, and B) No college degree.

* * *

**The Return I**

Neal Caffrey rested his head against the back of the seat, his eyes staring out the window, but not all together seeing. A thousand thoughts rushed through his head, leaving no room for the clouds that passed him by.

"_Neal Caffrey," one of his instructors, a guy by the name of Argo Denver, grunted in front of his whole class. His voice reminded him of Marshal Deckard, and his attitude had too. "The con artist. Why don't you share with the class just how you managed to con your way in here?" he requested. "Tell us, so we can all avoid the situation the Director must have found himself in."_

_Neal looked up at the man, wanting desperately to spit out a few key insults, and probably steal his wallet. But he knew that wasn't the best course of action and instead smiled at him, and said, in complete earnest, "No con."_

The guy had been a dick, as had many of the instructors at the academy. They'd all made their feelings quite clear about him from the moment he stepped foot on the grounds. Not that he hadn't seen this coming. Diana had warned him of this. They weren't likely to be accepting of the ex-con, not like she and Peter and Jones had been.

But there had been one man. One guy that didn't seem to care that Neal was a con artist. All that had mattered to Evan Dawley was that Caffrey had been an absolute wreck on his o-course.

But Neal was also one of the most dedicated recruits the man had seen pass through. Because Neal had a reason to make it, beyond just the obvious. He was on a mission, not just to be an Agent, but to prove to his instructors, who had no faith in him, to Bancroft, who had risked a lot to get him there, but mostly to Peter, because he was Peter.

Things were going to be a hell of a lot different when he came back to New York.

0

"You should go home, boss," Diana told Peter from the doorway of the conference room. "We're not going to get any further in this case till the warrant comes in. Tomorrow morning."

Peter shook his head and reached for the coffee mug sitting next to him. Only to find that it was empty.

"Go home," she said again. "Get some sleep. And don't even thing about going for the coffee machine again. You'll give yourself a heart attack."

Peter yawned. "Maybe sleep is a good idea." He stood up and shuffled his papers into a neat pile.

"Jones and I will take care of that," Diana assured him. "You just go home before I find someone to take you home."

"When did you get so bossy?" Peter asked.

She shrugged. "Christy likes it," she grinned, then narrowed her eyes at him for changing the subject. He was going home whether he liked it or not. All FBI agents were, by nature, control freaks and workaholics, but Peter had always tried his best to be a good husband and not let his job control his life. Which meant that, from the time that Elizabeth left him and Neal went off to the academy, to the time when Neal was back home, in his bed, Peter lived at work. "Go home."

0

When Neal's plane landed, Diana was waiting for him just beyond the security checkpoint.

"Hi Neal," she smiled. "How'd it go?"

Neal smiled widely back at her, then pulled out a black wallet and showed her the contents: an official (she hoped it was official) FBI badge and an ID. Neal's lips weren't smiling, a frown almost, just the was the FBI liked, but she could see that his eyes were grinning happily.

"Aww, you look so cute," she guhed, handing it back to him as they walked away.

"I don't think that was the intention," Neal said, rolling his eyes.

"We're all proud of you Neal," she told him sincerely. "I think the office is throwing a party for you on Monday."

It was nearly 1 in the morning when Diana dropped him off at Peter's house.

"I sent him home hours ago. He should be asleep in bed if he knows what's good for him. Though it's more likely he fell asleep on the couch, working on a case."

"That's Peter," Neal smiled. "Always working."

"Hughes is giving you guys the day off tomorrow. Today technically. You aren't expected to be back till Monday morning, bright and early."

"Three days all to ourselves? What ever will we do to pass the time?"

"Whatever you want. Just nothing too illegal, you're official now."

"Bye Diana," he smiled, opening the car door. "And thanks again," he added, slamming the door closed and heading for the house.

As suspected, Peter had fallen asleep on the couch. The coffee table was cluttered with papers, an empty mug of coffee, and the picture of Neal, in a silver frame.

"Oh, Peter," Neal said shaking his head, but smiling. He knelt down beside him. Part of him wanted to let him sleep, but he knew if he did, Peter would be complaining all day about a sore back. "Peter," he whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder and shaking him lightly. Peter stirred a little, but didn't wake up. "Peter," he repeated. "Wake up, Peter."

"Ne-Neal?" he mumbled, his eyes closed. He was still almost completely asleep. Then his eyes shot open. "Neal?" he exclaimed, sitting up.

Neal threw a wide smile his way.

"What are you doing back? You aren't supposed to be back until Monday."

Neal shrugged. "I may have told Diana and Jones to stretch the truth a bit. I wanted to surprise you. Now, come on, let's upstairs. Bed's are better for sleeping."

"I don't want to sleep," Peter said as the climbed the stairs.

Neal smiled at him. "You're exhausted Peter. You need to sleep."

Neal made sure both had taken off their shoes, then pulled him into the bed. Peter laid down, his head resting on Neal's chest. Neal smiled, running his fingers through Peter's hair.

"Don't want to sleep," Peter mumbled sleepily. "Want to talk to you. Want to know how everything went. Want to hear you talk. But I'm so tired."

"Sleep, Peter," Neal whispered lovingly. "I'll tell you all about it in the morning."

"Tell me now," Peter protested weakly. "Tell me something, anything. Just want to hear you're voice. I missed you."

Neal smiled. "I missed you too Peter," he replied. "I missed you a lot."

* * *

I know you all want more, more, more. I tried writing a chapter two for this, and it just didn't really work, so I think this is it. Sorry. I will continue trying though.


End file.
